The Meeting of Minds
by spottedhorse
Summary: The meeting of minds between Edith and Anthony. And... well, other parts too. Written for Andith Fest 2019.


Here we are again, another Andith Festival! Thank you Tarlea for getting this thing going. Here's my contribution. I warned everyone in the Forum that it was "M" and yes, it really is. I do hope you enjoy and that you don't blush too much ;)

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Edith Crawley lay sprawled, there was no ladylike way to describe her position, and naked on her bed, the bed clothes pushed aside and the cool air settling onto her still rather hot skin. Never before in her life, not even on the warmest of summer nights, had she ever been in quite this position, fully exposed and disheveled, with the still warm evidence of her recent activity seeping from between her legs onto the sheet beneath her. And she didn't care. No, she didn't have a care in the world because lying next to her was her accomplice in achieving such an unladylike state, her lover.

Had it really been only a few hours ago that she had met him, literally running into him, as she dashed out the door of her offices on Fleet Street towards her flat? Both had been taken by surprise, not only by the abrupt meeting but by the emotions that flared when they each realized who they had encountered.

Edith had taken a step back and peered up into his eyes, those glorious eyes that were bestowing upon her a look that she had sorely missed, his own special adoring gaze that as far as she knew no one else had ever been the beneficiary of. And she well and truly knew that no one else had looked at her like that ever, not even Michael.

They had stumbled through some polite greetings and a short conversation, simple niceties really, but it was clear that neither wanted the encounter to end. So without giving much thought to what she was doing, Edith invited him to her flat so they could chat more and catch up. Flashing that quirky, unsure grin of his, he'd bashfully accepted. "I should like that very much."

Their chat hadn't lasted long, just long enough to brew a pot of tea and drink it about halfway; just long enough for each to understand what had been missing in their lives since that dreadful day in 1920, just over three years before. To her chagrin, long enough for the cries and whimpers of little Marigold to be heard in the next room. He'd shot her a puzzled look just as Nanny emerged from the room. "Oh, I'm sorry Miss. Little Marigold isn't too pleased this afternoon. I was just going to fetch a cool cloth for her to gnaw on." And then the older woman disappeared into the kitchen in search of the cloth.

Edith glanced back at him and saw the question in his expression. She also saw the patience as he waited for an explanation. _Well_, she thought, _he'll find out anyway, might as well answer him now._ And so she told him everything, everything about Michael and everything about Marigold. And then she sat nervously as he digested it all. After a few long moments he simply gazed at her, a little of that adoration glistening in his eyes in the afternoon light. "I should like very much to meet her, if I may?"

He gazed on her child with much the same adoration he had often bestowed on her. His first comment was that while she didn't look much like her mother, the child did have her mother's golden hair and captivating eyes. And Edith's heart melted just a little more where this man was concerned.

They returned to the sitting room. "This isn't what I wanted for you," he'd said softly, almost sadly, after screwing his face a bit in an expression that she recognized from before. He'd put his foot in it and he knew it. "What I mean to say is that I'd hoped you'd marry some nice young chap and have a family complete with as many children as you want. But obviously things didn't go to plan."

"No, they did not. And frankly, while I did love Michael, looking back, I think it was for all the wrong reasons… and certainly in the wrong way."

He shot a her a confused look but said nothing for a moment. Then quietly he replied, "But you deserve so much better. You deserve only the best, the finest life possible."

She sighed heavily. "I'm afraid I didn't feel deserving of much at all when you left me standing there that day. Michael made me feel wanted."

A sad, haunted look crept into his features as he listened to her rebuke. "But it was never a question of me not wanting you, dearest. It was only that I'm far too…"

She cut him off. "No, I don't want to hear that ever again. One thing I have learned is that happiness and love comes to us in the ficklest manner, not caring one whit about age or anything else. We don't get to choose who we love, Anthony. And I loved you. I still do."

His eyes glistened as her listened to her. "Really? You really believe that…. How can you still care about me after what I did?"

"I do, I really do. And I can still care about you, love you, because I know that you did what you did out of love. Don't misunderstand, it was very high handed, very arrogant of you, to assume you knew what was best for me. And while it is true that I've had a bit of adventure since you left me, I've also had heartbreak. I can't say that I regret any of it because I have Marigold. But she might have been your daughter and I…. we might have had it all if you had gone through with things that day."

"You can't really mean that my age and my arm aren't a hinderance?"

"I can. Oh, your age bothers me because it bothers you. And your arm, it has caused you so much pain. How can that not bother me? But in speaking of my feelings for you, they matter not at all."

"Have I really been that much of a fool?"

"Yes," she replied bluntly. "But you can remedy that."

"I can?"

"Yes."

"But how?"

"Have dinner with me and then have breakfast with me in the morning."

He gaped at her, his entire being fully disbelieving what she had just said. "You can't really mean…?"

"I can and I do. Stay with me tonight. Let me show you that my feelings for you are true and nothing else matters."

"I…. I don't know what to say. It wouldn't be appropriate…"

"I don't care if is appropriate or not. Don't say another thing. Just kiss me."

And so now, Edith was in the position she was in, basking in the pleasure of his company. Her one night with Michael had been her first time and while it had been pleasurable enough, her greatest take away had been the glorious feeling that someone found her attractive enough to want her like that. And there was Marigold, of course.

But her night with Anthony Strallan was so much more. He had begun shyly, his concerns over his arm and the awkwardness it created restraining him. But as they kissed, as they held one another, his confidence grew. And he began to forget his age and his arm. His caresses changed from shy ones to adoring ones. His motions went from tentative to reverential. And when he had finally taken her to be his, he was fully a man engaged, demonstrating a ferocity that Edith would not have credited him with before that night. She relished each touch, each caress and finally, each thrust of his manhood. And when they were both spent, he'd assailed her again using his fingers to send her into another ecstasy, then lapping up the results with his tongue, only to repeat the process again and again until her bones felt like rubber and her entire being felt like melting butter. She could only lie there prostrate, while he kissed and caressed her entire body, head to toe, and then back again. And when she thought he might ease away to rest, he surprised her by merely lying back and with a sweep of his good arm, pulling her on top of him. "You learned to ride horses as a girl?" he whispered.

"Yes, although Mary is much better."

"I very much doubt that she could or would ride me as well as you might. Mount up, my darling."

And suddenly, she knew what he wanted. She never done things this way before but for him… anything. So she mounted him. And riding horses had never been like that! As weak and tired as she had been just moments before, she was now strong and spirited. Riding him like that, she was able to see his face and his expression filled her with a real sense of power. To watch his face, his eyes gazing back at her at first but then … oh my! His good hand clutched at her waist and worked down to her hip before grasping at her bottom as she leaned into him. Soon she realized he was guiding her with is hand, encouraging her into a position that exquisitely exciting for them both. And then it happened, a force deep within her exploded, willing her to stroke him faster and harder until every muscle within her clamped down, holding him inside. And then the spasms… and then… the white light, the sparkles exploding in her mind, her whole body focused on that union between them as he convulsed within her, peppering her inner walls with droplets of his seed. They moved in unison, seeking a continuation of those glorious feelings until there was nothing left but utter exhaustion and the feint sensation of his ebbing manhood still within her, slowly slipping away.

She rolled off of him and onto her back, her hand holding his as they both lay there, sated. Neither spoke, words would have broken the atmosphere, killed the soft, warm glow that seemed to be all around them. Words were unnecessary after what had just transpired between them.

She listened to his breathing, fast and heavy at first, but eventually slowing into a steady rhythm. Had he fallen asleep? A happy sigh escaped her which conjured a quiet chuckle from beside her. So he wasn't asleep. Turning on her side, she snuggled against him, her head resting on his shoulder. Her hand travelled to his chest, where she felt his still rapid heartbeat. Lazily, her fingers stroked over the planes of his pectoral muscles, evoking another soft chuckle followed by a whisper. "I'm afraid I haven't another go in me, if that is what you are after."

She continued her gentle stroking. "No, not at all. At least, not yet. I just…" She sighed again. "You feel so…. lovely."

His left hand rose to pat her hand on his chest. "My dear, lovely is a term that applies to only one of us in this bed, and it isn't me."

"Oh, but you are quite wrong, I think."

He sighed this time. "So, it wasn't…. I didn't… oh god, I hope it wasn't terribly awkward?"

Now it was Edith's turn to chuckle. "No my darling man, not awkward at all. Well, maybe a little at first, but you recovered quite nicely. It was quite wonderful, you were quite wonderful, and I… well, it was … wonderful, unlike anything I've ever experienced before."

"You can't really mean that," he scoffed.

"But I do," she replied emphatically.

"But why? Your …. Your Michael was much better, I would think."

"He isn't my Michael and since he was married, he never really was. But to answer your worry, no he was not. It was different with him but not better, not in any way better. Nothing could ever be better than what we just shared, except possibly if we were to do that again. Which I sincerely hope we will, many times."

"But… he was younger…"

"And age made no difference here. But since we are comparing experiences now, how was I in comparison to your previous experiences with women?"

"What?"

"Oh Anthony, really. You asked me to compare what we just had with what I had with Michael. So now, what about you and your prior experiences with women? You were married and I suspect there were other women."

Anthony laughed. "Really? You really think…. My dear, women have not exactly chased me around hoping I would bed them. But yes, I was married before."

"I can't believe you haven't had women interested. But we'll let that drop for now. Still, how do I compare with your previous experience?" She could feel his hesitation and waited quietly as he summoned an answer. She knew she was intruding where she might not be welcome.

"I loved Maud, please don't misunderstand. But things between us were rather… Victorian. You, my sweet, are most decidedly not."

Edith giggled. "Victorian? Anthony, you do realize how many children the queen had? She and Albert must have been at it all the time."

"Yes, well… that's not quite what I meant. Maud was… shy. And well, you are lying here without… well…you're…"

"Au natural…" she interjected.

"Yes, deliciously so. Maud rarely… well… she usually remained covered and was quite uncomfortable on those rare occasions where she was not. And she had been taught that the woman was to lie there and endure her man's attention. And so, while it served a purpose, the experience wasn't anything like what you've shared with me tonight."

"Mmmm…. So, we are in agreement then. Things are very good between us." There was complete silence from the other side of her bed. Edith waited, wondering why he had gone so quiet. Finally, when she could stand the silence no longer, she whispered, "Anthony?"

"Yes, my dearest darling?"

She flinched. He'd called her that just before he'd walked away from her before. "What are you thinking?"

"Thinking my dear? Not much at all. I'm just enjoying this."

"This?"

"The pleasure of being with you like this, of the feeling of you beside me, the knowledge that I've satisfied you, the smell of our union in the air around us, and knowing that it is my seed that has you still wet. Quite heady feelings really. I never thought, never dreamed it could be like this."

And now?"

"And now I know, really understand what a complete fool I was when I walked away from you."

"Maybe. But maybe it was what you had to do for us to get here."

"And where is here, Edith?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean…. Well, we are here tonight. But what about tomorrow and the next day and all the next days after that? Have you brought me to this place, this understanding, only to abandon me as I abandoned you? I couldn't blame you if that is what this is."

"Abandon you? No Anthony. We need to sleep. And when we wake, I'll still be here, still au natural just as you are, and it is my fondest hope that you will be recovered enough for us to repeat what we've shared tonight. And then I hope we will spend the day together… and the night… and I'll wake the following morning to serve you breakfast. That is where I want us to be, where we will be, tomorrow and all the days ahead."

"I find it very difficult to believe that in a few years you won't have tired of me. I… well, tonight was…. We hadn't seen each other in such a long time and I hadn't… well, been with a woman since long before that. I doubt that I will sustain that sort of… of enthusiasm. And then you will be disappointed and tire of me."

Edith sat up beside him and began to run her hand down the length of his torso, all the while watching his face for his reaction. She was rewarded with his gaze that changed from chagrin to absolute yearning. A crooked smile inched across his face while his eyes sparkled with mischief. "While I'm enjoying this immensely, I still need some time before…"

"But the point is, I'm enjoying this too," Edith replied. "As long as you look at me like you are now, I'll never be disappointed."

"Oh my sweet one, do you have any idea what you do for my opinion of myself?"

"Probably no more than you do for mine," she replied lazily as she snuggled back down against him.

Edith woke the next morning enveloped in the warmth of her lover. Lying on her side, she felt the weight of his arm over her and an exciting sort of glow washed through her as his fingers toyed with her hardening nipples. He seemed to know when she woke because his playfulness intensified until waves of desired flooded through her, making her arch her back, pushing back into him as she instinctively sought more intimate touches. A groan from him told her that he was in perfect tune with all that she was feeling. A moment later, his hand left her breast and inched down to play with her even more private region. "Mmm, ready for me again," he whispered from behind her as he nibbled at the area just behind her ear.

As she lay there giving into the sensations he was creating within her, Edith thought it was all almost too much to bear. And then she wondered how she could ever have too much of this man's attention. This was too wonderful, too splendid, to ever be too much but it was also quite overwhelming. She'd never known, never would have guessed, that things could this glorious.

Anthony apologized for his early morning zeal as they curled into one another's arms when they were once again sated. "It's just…. I had to be sure it was real, that you really were next to me and…" he grew suddenly quiet and seemed to withdraw just a little.

"And what, my darling?"

Sounding a bit bashful and almost ashamed, he finished what he had been about to say. "And that you really wanted me."

"I've spent the better part of the last decade wanting you and I will always want you, my darling man. Please don't ever think that I won't. With you, I feel as if everything is just right, so very perfect."

"But I don't understand how," he shot back softly. "I'm not…"

"If you're going to go on about your blasted arm again, I won't listen. And I think last night and this morning have proven just how weak your age argument is. No Anthony, I refuse to accept that when we are together things are anything other than perfect. Others might not see it, but I do. And I wish you could too."

"That's just it," he answered with that weird little grin that broadcast just how uneasy he was. "I do… see it, feel it, revel in it. But I have a hard time believing it is real. I keep wondering when the dream will end and I'll awaken to a lonely bed and my sad life."

"Trust in it, trust in us," Edith whispered.

Anthony remained quiet for several minutes before leaning over her and kissing her. Then propping himself up with his arm, he looked down at her. "When and where would you like the wedding?"

Edith blinked. Her heart raced but her mind screamed. Was he assuming that because of what they had done that she was expecting a proposal? She would not do that to him again; she would not pressure him to go where he wasn't ready to go. "I…. I hadn't… No, Anthony. I don't want a wedding."

He frowned and then sat up. "But… then why…. Why this? I thought… What I mean to say is that last night you said, we said…. We would live like this for the rest of our days."

"And I meant it. But I won't pressure you Anthony. I pushed you before and it ended in disaster. I will marry you anytime and anyplace you want, but only if you are ready. I didn't bring you to my bed to make you feel as if you must. I brought you here because I simply had to have you."

He looked startled. But then a wide grin crept across his features. "I really do want us to marry, my dearest; but on the other hand, I really would like to remain here in this bed with you and never leave, not even for a wedding."

Lady Edith Crawley became Lady Strallan five weeks later in a rather hurried affair once Anthony realized that she had missed her monthly. Little Marigold became Marigold Strallan a week later. Phillip Edward Anthony Strallan was born exactly thirty-nine weeks after Edith had taken Anthony to her bed. If anyone's eyebrows were raised by the appearance of the young heir so soon after his parent's marriage, Edith and Anthony were too busy to notice. They were hard at work on the spare, who made his appearance just after young Phillip's first birthday. They split their time between London and Locksley, equally at home in either location as long as the other was with them. Edith produced a second spare a full fifteen months after Phillip's second birthday. And as sweet as the Strallan heir was, he was heard to grouse on his youngest brother's first birthday that there were too many babies and his mum should stop growing them. Phillip was six and had two younger brothers and two younger sisters plus of course, Marigold to contend with, when Dr. Clarkson finally put his foot down with the elder Strallans, putting an end to anymore baby production. Still, much to Anthony's surprise, Edith never grew tired of his attention, which he bestowed quite ably for many years to come.


End file.
